


Acclamation

by Macx



Series: Fate Lines [5]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little interlude. Renard musing on his never-expected relationship with Nick, how much the Grimm means to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acclamation

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the first episode of the second season I a) found I never posted this little fic and b) started writing again after a longer dry spell (writer's block meet Real Life meets flamers squared)
> 
> Here we go:

It was a cool night, one that heralded the colder times to come. Light frost had already claimed the city and people were bundling up against the weather. Snow might fall as early as October this year, but it was never a sure thing until it really happened.

Sean Renard stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking his city, eyes on the still life outside. It was in the middle of the night, no one was outside who didn’t really have to be – cabbies, night owls and the occasional night hunter – and it was quiet. His city was peacefully asleep and the few misdemeanors being committed would soon pop up on someone’s radar.

Mostly police.

Occasionally the Grimm’s.

Smiling a little at the thought, a feeling of yearning passing through his powerful frame.

The apartment was dark and silent, no one here but him. It wasn’t a rare occurrence. Actually it happened too often and he had felt the strain of the latest string of absences harder than before.

Before there had been… entertainment. Never anything too serious. Mostly to sate his needs. More often than not he had chosen to be alone because as the Guardian of Portland selecting a bed partner was playing politics against plain physical need; politics always won.

Then Nick Burkhardt had stepped into his life and he had cursed politics because for the first time he had felt that here was someone far more than he seemed. Which was true because Renard had known about his relation to the infamous Marie Kessler. Digging deep into Nick’s background he had been even more surprised to discover who Nick’s parents had been, and the fact that after their death he hadn’t been named the new Grimm.

Probably because of his age.

The abilities had been there, showing in his police skills, in his empathy, in his deductive skills and the fact that he was pretty much aware of many things that went on around him.

With the death of Kessler, Nick had become the Grimm for real. It was a power that had astounded Renard, even as it was still developing, stretching its proverbial wings.

And then Nick had finally taken flight.

It was a magnificent image to behold and the Guardian had been drawn to the man like a moth to the flame.

Deadly but beautiful. Lethal but oh-so desirable.

Now Nick was his.

Renard smiled slightly.

Wrong. He was Nick’s. There was no mistaking the claim the other man had on him, how much he had taken control of Sean Renard’s life without even knowing about it. Nick was everything to Renard and the power he wielded was unconscious and tame compared to what he could be doing. Grimm’s were the perfect mates for a regnant, but not every Grimm had the potential.

Of course, a female would have meant offspring, but Renard felt no loss at that. Nick was his and it meant so much more than a line of offspring. The rest of his siblings took care of that. He wasn’t required to father children and regnants were known for a very long and successful rule. His parents were still powerful Guardians of their chosen city and had been for decades before his birth.

What he and Nick shared would never be based on the necessity to procreate, to insure strong genetic successors. It was an alliance, coupled with a partnership, topped by hunger and need and love on both sides.

Yes, Renard had fallen in love, something that had never happened before with any of his chosen bed partners, and he knew Nick returned the feeling. This wasn’t something the younger man and his subordinate in the human world used as a stepping stone for a new career.

Nick actually couldn’t care less. Their relationship was purely private and nothing had leaked through at work. They were captain and detective. In the wesen world they were regnant and Grimm. Only a few had made the discovery of bonded mates. Monroe was one, for example.

The main door opened almost silently, then closed with a barely audible thud. Steps that spoke of grace and the litheness of a hunter approached.

He looked into the glass, saw the reflection of his chosen partner and bonded mate, felt the connection between them as the Grimm’s power licked at the edge of his perception.

The awareness he had of Nick had astounded and slightly awed him at first. He had wondered if it would make the Grimm turn and run; the opposite had happened. Nick had taken on this new challenge, had risen to it, had accepted the psychic bond like he had so many things.

And he had grown with it.

It was incredible to watch the evolution, the development, and to know that part of Renard had pushed Nick further, had helped him along.

Gazing at his bonded, Sean saw that Nick looked pale and tired, in need of a good night’s sleep, but there was also satisfaction.

He had solved his case, had hunted down another bad one, and probably arrested him.

Sean smiled.

No, never kill a wesen if there was a police procedure he could stick on them. Nick wasn’t that kind of Grimm and never would be, power and ability aside. And relatives, too. Marie Kessler, in her later years, had developed a very bad reputation. She had left a path of pain and destruction behind.

Whatever had changed in her life to turn her into this, Renard might never know. The few times Nick had volunteered a few tid-bits about his late aunt, no new information had come Renard’s way that could explain those violent outbreaks.

But something had happened.

“You’re still up,” his mate remarked quietly, drawing him out of his musings.

And he was as always very observant. Renard smiled more and enjoyed the touch as Nick slid an arm around his waist, drawing intimately close. Sean dropped a kiss on the tousled head, then found the slightly chapped lips.

Nick felt cool from the night outside, but also burning with the lingering fire of the hunt, with the power inside him that was pure Grimm, and the regnant inside him reacted with a hum and a purr. He loved to feel that strength. He reveled in the power. He needed that man so badly, it hurt sometimes.

He was addicted in the best possible way.

And Sean Renard, Guardian of Portland, didn’t see it as a weakness at all.

Nick knew everything about his heritage, about what Renard was, had accepted what came with it, and he bore the claim mark. It didn’t make him beta or submissive; oh, quite the contrary. No one commanded a Grimm; no one dared to make him their servant. Renard had been aware of the fine wire he had walked when he had claimed the man, the alpha in him wanting a mate, the regnant demanding subservience, the Guardian refusing to be usurped.

And still… this man held everything, all the power, all the control. Nick had never used it, aside from a brief confrontation months ago when Maurice Renard, Renard’s older brother, had been foolish enough to step into his sibling’s territory. Then Nick had shown what he was made of, keeping the creature side of Renard leashed and refusing to give in, let Renard possibly kill his brother.

“Success?” the regnant rumbled.

“He’s already at the station, under arrest for a triple homicide.”

He saw no injuries, though there might be bruises. Nick met his scrutiny, smiling briefly.

“I’m fine. So is everyone else.”

Renard nuzzled the dark hair, smelling the approaching winter in the cool strands, feeling Nick melt against him almost unconsciously. Despite the appearance, there was no submission.

It was what he loved about this man, what made him so perfect. Subconsciously he gave the regnant what the wesen needed, but he refused to back down when it was important. And Renard didn’t interfere with Grimm business.

At least not much.

Nick had a core of steel that was hidden by his handsome exterior, his compassionate ways and his youth.

But Sean had seen the core often enough, had looked into those eyes and met the hunter-predator, had faced the Grimm side, and he had felt his very souls hiver. Like all wesen his instinct told him to back away, but his dominant side snarled and wanted the Grimm to bow. It was a constant struggle.

Nick mediated in that regard, too. An arbitrator in so many ways. He would appease the primal side in his own way and while Renard always topped in their sexual encounters, he was very much aware that the bottom called the shots. Especially one who was an alpha predator and who was just as lethal as the regnant.

“Hank and I won’t be in until noon,” Nick continued, pliable and warm against him now that he was acclimatizing from the cold outside. “Reports, catching up, then long weekend.” He sounded amused.

Renard chuckled. “Anything planned?”

“Unless something Grimm-related hits me, no. I was thinking of catching up on some lore, enjoy the good weather while it lasts, enjoy my mate while he’s not juggling politics…”

Eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Renard laughed. Nick looked boyish and devious and too delicious for his own good. He leaned down, claiming the willing mouth in another kiss, and felt parts of him clamoring for more. Nick hadn’t been with him for days and the need had almost driven Renard into doing something very stupid at times. Like pushing Nick into a broom closet and restaking his claim.

Damn those instincts! He hadn’t had those problems ever before. His composure had suffered from the claim on his mate; he had never experienced anything like it before and somehow he didn’t want to change it at all. He wouldn’t give up Nick for anything. If there was ever the need to choose between his guardianship and the Grimm, Renard knew he would always stand by his mate.

Always.

But the regnant had himself under control in public. He was proud of his composure around his detective at work.

Now he wanted him. Badly.

Nick’s smirk was knowing and with a little push Renard found himself with his back against the window front, the smaller man gazing at him with a hungry, dark look. It was amazing how the normally so affable and innocent appearing, young officer could switch to something Renard could only describe as ‘bad ass’ in a moment.

The Grimm gazed at him, all innate ability and power, strong fingers curling around his hip bones, fighting an invisible battle with the wesen over dominance.

It wasn’t lightly asserted.

Renard refused to give in.

The Grimm held against him.

Green eyes bore into gray.

Power sparked almost visibly between them, Nick consciously letting the Grimm side come out and ‘play’. It was a dangerous game, one that could backfire, but Nick was taking the risk and he always pushed Renard.

The regnant had been irritated at first, then had slowly let himself fall for the game, had played, too.

Always with an edge.

Always with the predator lurking in the dark, eying the other one with narrowed eyes, talons itching, fangs pinpricks in his mouth.

Two alphas, both in their own right, both so very different and so very strong in their chosen fields.

It had made for some very… wild and unrestrained sex. Hell, it had been close to a fight that one time and he still loved to remember it. He had seen Nick as the Grimm, had taken the Grimm, but he had been unable to push him into submission; it would never happen. He had marked his mate and his mate’s eyes had been deep and dark and filled with a hunger that was hard to miss.

It had also been the first time Nick had called the shots to the very end, Renard underneath him as he had sheathed himself on the regnant’s cock, controlling their encounter.

Claws had left red marks that hadn’t broken Nick’s skin and had disappeared by morning. There had been the renewal of the bite mark, Nick’s blood on Sean’s tongue, and the bond had sung between them.

Renard felt the emotions rise again, most prominently love, that reverence he experienced, that wonder that Nick Burkhardt was his mate. The only person who had ever so openly defied him again and again.

It made him intensely desirable.

It made him Nick Burkhardt, police detective, Grimm.

A slow smile crept over his mate’s lips as the bond leaked those emotions and Renard smiled back, caught.

“Me, too,“ Nick murmured, interpreting the trickle of emotions correctly, and kissed him, having to stretch until the taller man met him halfway.

Something bloomed inside Sean, something powerful and warm and overwhelming. He buried his face against the warm neck, inhaled Nick’s scent, felt a calmness spread through him.

_Mine_ , he thought.

Nick was his.

He lightly bit the pale skin, teeth blunt and not breaking through, and Nick shivered. The pale, faintly visible mark of the claiming was gently teethed.

He ran his hands over Nick’s body. It was wonderful, intoxicating, and it was addictive. It was purely Nick in his openness, his silky feel, where he brushed over exposed skin, his delightful warmth, and it was the sharpness of the Grimm, the dangerous weapon, the predator. The scent of his mate invaded Renard’s senses, made him crave more.

“Let’s take this to bed,” the Grimm said softly.

“You need rest,” Renard said automatically, cursing his own instinctive reaction of ‘Yes, damnit! Bed! Now!’.

“Then you shouldn’t have started this.”

“Hm, maybe,” he agreed, a teasing expression flitting over his features.

Nick stepped back, tilting his head, the same teasing light in his eyes. His fingers played with the robe’s knot, then undid it deftly, eyes never leaving Renard’s.

The regnant rumbled his appreciation and acceptance as the dark material fell open. He was bare-chested, only wearing his pajama pants.

Nick stepped back a little further, raised his brows in a clear invitation, and then turned and walked leisurely over to the bedroom.

Renard would have been a fool not to follow.

He truly wasn’t.


End file.
